Of Dark Pasts & Angel Kisses
by Sacred'-'Harmony
Summary: A series of one shots that include scenes from before Hush, Hush to after Finale and everything in between, including different POV's from all of our favorite characters. Rated T for some language and romance. It sounds simple enough, but give it a shot. (: Please R
1. Bare-knuckle Nicknames that Never Last

**Disclaimer: The characters and content in this story belong to the incredibly talented Becca Fitzpatrick. As much I was wish I owned her ideas, I don't. I'm simply a fan, having fun with her characters and writing about the scenes that she left us wondering about.**

**This first entry is set before the first book, when Patch was wrapped up in Irish bare-knuckle boxing. This just so happens to be when he picks up the nickname, "Patch." For those of you that are curious, this idea was brought on by the mention of it on page 234 of Hush, Hush.**

**Now, on with the first chapter. Enjoy!**

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Patch's POV

"I think that went well." I stated while I walked through the door, tossing my shirt that was no longer recognizable onto the back of a chair. Rixon looked unconvinced, leaning back with his hands resting on the counter tops.

"Aye, it looks like it."

The sarcasm in his voice almost made his Irish accent seem heavier. He pushed himself away from the counter and made forward, reeking of ale although he seemed sober enough, and flicked the light on. He gave me an annoyed glare once he'd seen the damage in the light.

"With a face like that, you'd think you'd take better care of it." He grumbled and shoved a hand into the center of my chest, making me fall back into the chair. I could only chuckle in response.

"Why d'ya keep it up if you know you aren't any good at it, Jev?" Rixon called from the other room where I heard the water running. I rolled my eyes.

"If I remember right, you weren't all that great yourself."

"No," He agreed, reappearing with a wrung out cloth. "But I was smart enough to give it up." I met his laugh with one of my own. Rixon was never quite as stubborn as me.

We used to go together, down to a little bar on the sketchier end of town where you were socially unaccepted if you hadn't been in the pin for at least six months or murdered somebody. Over the years , the bar had become a hotspot for the fallen like us. The entrance was worn down and it blended in with the rest of the red-bricked alley. If you didn't already know it was there on the corner, you would walk right by it.

The door was stiff and covered in chipped, maroon paint. When you opened it, you were always met with the stench of strong whiskey, sweat, and the odor of a particular brand of cigarettes that they sold for cheap at the market down the road. I could never stand it, and was grateful that most of the smell was gone once you reached the basement.

Down the narrow stairway, there was a room that opened up with bright lights overhead that always made me dizzy after the first few slugs were thrown. There was no real ring, but the men that stood on the sidelines were normally enough to form the fighting circle. It wasn't professional by any means, and half the time, I was convinced that it was the reason that I liked it so much.

Me and Rixon both had typically been good for the first few rounds before we'd stagger off and he'd talk me into a drink or two. I think it discouraged him too much, or maybe he was just more interested in the alcohol than the fighting itself, because before too long, he refused to join in anymore. Instead, he was normally stuck fixing me up after the brawl, like he was doing now.

"Hey, I win sometimes." I defended myself with a grin while he threw the damp towel to me.

"Yeah, like hen's teeth." He countered and tapped his left eye. I reached up to my own left eye with the towel, as he instructed. Sure enough, there was gash just below it.

"Nobody likes a smartass," My voice reminded him while he snatched the back of a chair and dragged it over to sit in front of me. He didn't have a comment for me, to my surprise, and just sat there with his goofy grin.

"Damn it all, Jev, you've split your lip again!" Rixon groaned. "I stitched it up only yesterday!"

"And you'll probably be doing it again tomorrow."

I smirked while he glared at me. I was surprised that he thought my lip was bad enough to need stitching. I thought I had done pretty well to avoid swings that were directed at my jaw, but I guess one or two blows to the face was enough to get the job done. No matter, Rixon would get it straight before my face started healing up. It was easier to fix it now than it was to wake up in the morning with something that healed quickly but looked funny because it was too screwed up to heal right.

"You should have seen the other guy."

"That's a fret," He chuckled. "Don't you think it's about time you give boxing up? The world knows it isn't your game."

I rolled my eyes. So, maybe my boxing skills had never seen a good day but really, it didn't make a difference to me.

"It's a good way to blow off steam." I shrugged. I was confident enough to think that I would get better eventually.

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered and stood to get the kit that he had cleverly written, "In the case that Jev still thinks he can win" over the top with a marker. It held sewing utensils and bandages, which were quickly running out.

He made some noise, rustling through the kit for a minute until he seemed to find what he needed and returned. After a round of cussing, he ordered me to mop up the blood so that "he could at least see what he was stitching together."

"Some of the boys want to go out tonight," He said while adding some final touches to his work. "I think I'll join them. Feel up to it?"

I sat back. "Maybe." In all honesty, it got old running around with some of them, but what else would I do to keep myself busy? I snatched my shirt from the back of the chair.

"Let me shower, maybe give this some time to close up." I pointed to the swollen, gashed eye that was already seeming to shrink down to its normal size.

"They might even bring those little blonde gals along," Rixon hinted with raised eyebrows and I chuckled.

"Ya know," He said as if suddenly remembering something while I walked down the hall. "I was telling the lot of them about how often I have to fix you up, with your little boxing obsession." Rixon stopped at the end of the hall and watched as I let my tattered shirt slide into the garbage can.

"Hmm." I hummed, swinging the closet door open to find a towel.

He nodded with a big, teasing smile on his face. "That's right, and they had quite the idea. Seeing as how often I'm patching you up, they figured we ought to start calling you 'Patch.'"

I rolled my eyes and closed the bathroom door, leaving him standing in the hall with his stupid smirk. _Patch,_ I snorted. That would never catch on.

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**Well, there you have it. I'll admit, it's short and not my best for a first chapter. I hadn't planned on posting this first, originally, but it will do. I hope I didn't completely murder the Irish phrases/sayings but I did want to add something for Rixon. I really wanted to write this out to show the relationship that he and Patch had before. We only really know him as evil, but there must have been some reason that Patch hung around with the guy. ;) Also, it's a glance into our favorite fallen angel's past before he met Nora.**

**Just as a heads up for future chapters: I won't be posting them in any kind of order, meaning it won't be in order of the books. I'll skip around with them and the POV's that they're written in. In the long run, I do hope that you enjoy reading this.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated, and I would really love to hear about the scenes that you guys would like to see in this fic. **

**Until next time! XOXO**


	2. Scott's Offer

**Well, because I already have a few chapters written out, I figured I might as well post some more tonight. First and foremost, however, I would like to take a quick minute to thank my reviewers before we get on to chapter two. Big thanks to Skylight Reality, Guest (I don't know what to call you, but you know who you are), and hybridgirl167 for taking the time to give me some feedback on my first Hush, Hush story!**

**Anyway, here's another one. This one takes place around page 343 in Finale. In case you don't have the book to flip through and freshen up on the scene, I'll explain a little bit to help you out.**

**Scott, Patch, and Nora have just returned from the cemetery after their run-in with Dante when Scott calls with news of Dante's plans of having a meeting at Delphic that night. Patch suggests that Nora holds a mandatory meeting before Dante's can take place and that she should challenge him to a duel to reassure her position as the Nephilim leader. They plan to delay the duel long enough for Pepper to get a hold of the feathers and win the war. So, Nora suggests that Patch calls Scott to let him know to start leaking news of Nora's meeting, and that's where I leave you to read.**

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Patch's POV

_Calling... Scott Parnell_ was lit across my phone screen before I held it up to my ear. The last I'd heard from him, it was just after three in the morning. With Nora finally warm and relaxed enough to sleep, I had slipped out into the hall to inform Scott of the plan.

"Yeah." Scott's voice broke over the line after the second ring. There was no drowsiness in his voice or sign that my call had woken him, which I found strange after a glance at the time.

"Scott," I said into the receiver. I didn't feel the need to go on with, "Hey, it's Patch." He would know who it was, so I continued without a beat. "Anything new?"

He hesitated on the other end before giving me a curt, "No."

My eyes narrowed at his terse answer. True as it was that we weren't exactly on the best of terms, we were typically civil enough to hold a conversation. I could hear another voice then, and realization hit me.

"It's a bad time." I stated instead of asking, listening to another voice join the conversation through the phone.

"Kinda," Scott agreed and I sighed, looking down at the back of my hand in the darkness. A hauntingly dim color of blue still tinted my skin from earlier, and it was Scott's voice that broke my silent, yet colorful, string of adjectives for that gutless excuse of a man, Dante.

"Yeah, listen. I'll leave right now. Where do you want to meet?"

He was good, putting on a show for the listening ears around him. "Rita's Market. Do you know where that is?"

Scott hummed into the phone. "Sure."

"Good. Meet me in the back lot." I muttered and pushed my thumb up to end the call. I stuffed my phone into my pocket and crept back into the room for my shoes. Nora breathed softly, curled into the sheets with her curly hair spilling over the pillows, and it killed me to leave her. I was half tempted to dial Scott's number again, tell him that it could wait just so that I could crawl back into that bed.

I stood next to the bed, leaned over, and brushed my lips against her temple lightly. No, this was something that couldn't wait.

"I'll be back, Angel." I whispered into her hair, even though I knew she wouldn't hear me, and walked briskly out of the room, snatched my keys from the counter, and let the door swing shut quietly behind me.

Seven minutes later, I was pulling into Rita's. My headlights washed over the front window and a sign advertising their "tres leche" cake. I don't know what it was that made me choose _this_ location to meet Scott. There were several options that would have offered the privacy that our meeting required, but the little Hispanic market was the first that came to mind.

I steered around to the backside of the building, which opened up into a little parking lot that employees most likely used during operating hours. Pulled in, twisted the key to kill the engine, and I let my head fall back against the seat. I was exhausted and certain Scott was too. I would make it quick and ease both of our pains.

The passenger side door swung open a few minutes later as I slid my hand down my face.

"Alright," Scott sighed when the door was fit into place again and the overhead lights had dimmed. "Let's hear it."

Good, he was set on getting straight to it as well. I crossed my arms over the top of the steering wheel and stared out into the dark air.

"I need you to start dropping hints that Nora has requested an urgent and mandatory meeting for your most prominent Nephilim." I said and listened to the dryness in my voice that came with the late hour.

Scott turned in his seat. "A meeting?"

I nodded. "Tonight."

He sat for a minute, probably processing. Scott wasn't slow to pick up on it though.

"You're going to override Dante's meeting, aren't you? What if he doesn't show?"

"Oh, he'll show." I said darkly. "He'll be curious enough that he won't miss it."

Scott nodded, seeming to agree with that fact at least. I could tell that his own curiosity was eating at him.

"And this meeting?" He finally asked, shifting in his seat. "What's it all about?"

I turned enough to watch his expression when the words left my mouth. "She's going to remind them who their leader is, up show that worthless-" I inserted some thoughts of my own about Dante. "And, she's going to challenge his power."

Scott stared at me, raising both eyebrows and expecting more. "Challenge his power? What, like a duel?"

I nodded with my teeth clenched. By the sounds of it, he didn't like the idea any more than I did.

"A duel?" He asked louder.

"I'll need you to be at the meeting to buy me some time. I need you there to convince them that the duel shouldn't take place immediately."

Scott sat back, exasperated. "What if I can't get in?"

I looked at him and he met my gaze. I think he understood that it wasn't an option. Nora's life might depend on it.

"What about you?" He asked, quieter. "You know the meeting will be on total lock-down, right?"

Yes, I had thought about it. I needed to be there for Nora as much as I needed to be there for my own peace in mind. The question was, as Scott mentioned, how to get in.

"I'll find a way." I was confident that I would. I would always find a way.

Scott raked his fingers through his hair and looked down at the dashboard so that I could no longer see his eyes while he thought.

"I'll get word out about the meeting, too. It shouldn't take long for news like that to spread." I muttered, mindlessly rubbing the back of my hand.

"What about Nora? She's never done anything like that before." His mind was running. My chest tightened at the reminder of her and Dante, circling each other with weapons of choice and the aim to kill.

"I know," I said and it was my turn to look away. "That's another reason that we have to do everything we can to delay it." God, at this rate I would throw myself into a full on panic attack. My knuckles were white with the force that I was gripping the steering wheel with and I could feel the scowl etched onto my face. This night alone had aged me a thousand years.

The car was silent for a minute or two while we sat there, boiling in our own helpless frustration. Two men with one desire to save the same woman. It still bothered me, how much he cared for her, but on the same page, I was grateful for it because it meant he would do about anything that I would to protect her. Nora needed more than the promise of just me being there for her. Especially when I knew that it was a promise that I didn't know how long I could keep.

"Look, Patch." His voice finally revealed just how tired he was. "I'll try to get you in, but I think you know that it's impossible."

I didn't want to answer. Of course I knew it, but I would never admit to it being impossible. Patch Cipriano was not that quick to throw in the towel. When you're as stubborn and determined as I am, most things tend to go your way.

"Unless..." Scott tilted his head closer to the window and his brow was furrowed. I leaned forward a little more, waiting for the rest of his sentence to come. _Unless?_ The ticking seconds of silence were only agitating me more and I was convinced that my eye would start twitching with all of these nerves built up inside me. Finally, he shook his head and murmured something that sounded like, "I must be out of my mind."

I raised an eyebrow. In that moment, I wasn't about to argue with him about his sanity because I found myself questioning it too. Spit it out already, Parnell.

"If I can get a guaranteed slip into the meeting," He took a deep breath as if he regretted what he was about to say next. "I'll let you do it."

He didn't move, and I waited. "What are you talking about?"

Scott blinked at me, shocked that I didn't understand his crazy mumbling.

"Well, it's Cheshvan, isn't it?"

It struck me as a brainless question. Scott, of all people, feared it most of- wait. _"I'll let you do it." Cheshvan._ So that's what was running through the gears in his mind.

"You do know what you're asking, don't you?" I couldn't control the surprise written all over my face.

"Yeah, just don't make me think too much about it." He pushed his forehead into his palm. As much as I doubted he was serious about it, Scott was onto something. The Nephilim would never suspect any foul play if I walked in with his voice, his face. I would sit there in the crowd with the rest of them and argue Nora's side.

Oh, Nora. I sighed. "As good of an idea as it might sound, you know she'd never agree."

Scott glanced at me from the corner of his eye before lifting his head. "I think she would. I think she'd feel a lot better having the both of us there."

I considered it for a minute, as well as the tightness around his eyes. Just the thought of it scared him and his head was worn beyond belief. I didn't expect his offer to stand come morning.

"Sleep on it. You might not like the sounds of it when you can think clearly." I reached up to the key dangling from the ignition and twisted the engine to life.

He seemed to think about it a little more before he set his mouth into a thin line. "If I'm in, you will be too. I won't chicken out." Scott nodded to himself and as if to back up his argument, added, "It's for Nora." With that, he swung the door open but turned back to me.

"I'll get the news out there and I'll call you guys tomorrow." He said and slid out of the seat until his shoes met asphalt.

"Scott," I called. With my left hand still resting on the wheel, I offered my right one out to him. His eyes regarded it for a second before he leaned over the seat and clasped it with his own. "Thanks." I said. It wasn't said in the most sincere way, but I was sure he knew just how grateful I was for his help, for his support in the girl I loved.

He closed the door and I watched him run off to his own car. The night was beginning to fade away, morning was on its way, and I switched the vehicle into gear because I knew what that meant. I pulled out onto the street as if our little meeting had never happened and raced back to my house, my bed, and the girl that slept in it. For what seemed like the hundredth time in one night, I walked through the door and into the quiet house. I kicked my shoes off before I hit the kitchen, dug through my pockets and found my keys and phone in time to fling them on the counter, and entered my bedroom with a smile. In the time that I had been gone, she had flipped to her other side and added a snarl or two to that beautiful red, brown, whatever-color-she-cared-to-call-it hair of hers.

I crawled up the mattress and sank down into the bed next to her. With her nose level to mine, I closed my eyes and dreamt of the simple things that seemed to be lost in our lives at that moment. Nights like this were the reason that I could pull my hair out with worry all day, and still have hope that there was a future in store for the next. If I had anything to do with it, she would be safe. At all costs.

...

I had to hand it to him; the boy could keep his word. Scott assured me last night that he would call and he had done so, faithfully, each and every hour with new information. Not once had he mentioned anything of the meeting or of his offer until that afternoon. I'd finally convinced Nora that she should eat something, and so she was noisily picking through the refrigerator's contents when the phone went off. Without looking at the screen, I pinned the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"What's the good word?" I muttered while I sank into the sofa.

"Patch," Scott said. "Am I on speaker?"

My brow furrowed as I glanced toward the kitchen. "No," I said hesitantly. "Do you need Nora?"

He quickly refused on the other end. "No, I'm actually calling for you."

"Oh?" I leaned forward to rest my elbow on my knee and take the phone in my other hand. The conversation had suddenly turned serious, and I wasn't convinced that it was a good thing.

"I just wanted to tell you, I slept on it. I've thought about it while my head's clear."

I lifted my head. He had my attention now that I knew where the conversation was going. It was the answer that I'd been waiting to hear all day, and I was afraid that I knew what that answer might be.

"And?"

"And I'm sticking to it. I told you that I wouldn't chicken out, and as much as I hate to agree to it, I'll stand by that promise." I could hear him swallow. "For Nora."

I sat back against the sofa and blew the air from my lungs. _Thank God,_ I thought to myself. He continued to surprise me with the lengths that he would go to for Nora. It was no secret that Scott was adamantly opposed to the idea of offering himself as a vassal, as any Nephilim I had ever seen in my time.

"I owe you, Scott."

He snorted, "You better remember that." And the line went dead. I smirked and sat the phone on the cushion next to me just as Nora appeared around the corner.

No longer than ten minutes later, the phone buzzed again and Nora snatched it off the counter and had it pressed to her ear before the first ring had finished. Slowly, I followed her in hopes of picking up bits and pieces of the conversation and leaned against the wall, regarding her with careful eyes. Would he tell her or would he leave me to do the dirty work?

She ended the call and turned to me. "Meeting is tonight," She said and I nodded with her. "At the old Millar residence." _Damn._ I sent a brief, grateful glance to the ceiling for Scott's determination to keep a promise. There would be absolutely no hope of getting in there without him.

"That works," I told her easily. "I'll be there."

Her eyes lingered on mine for a moment before she went straight into doubting it. So Scott had left me with doing the honors after all. I interrupted her trailing thoughts. "I'm going to possess Scott's body." There was no easy way of spilling the news to her and so I did it quickly and got it out of the way.

She stared at me, voicing the thought that I had been thinking up until about twenty minutes prior. "Scott will never agree to it."

"He already has." I said softly, incredulously.

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**Two down, many more to come! Again, I hope you at least enjoyed it a little bit. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, if that strikes your fancy. ;) **


	3. The Risks Taken

**I know, I promised that these wouldn't come in any kind of order, but I felt the need to post this one next so that everybody could keep up with what's going on. Again, we're in Patch's head but I promise to get some of the other characters posted very soon. **

**Once again, big thanks for reviews! It really does mean a lot to know what my readers think of these because it gives me the inspiration to keep posting them. So, keep it up and I promise to do so on my end. **

**aPackageFromTed: Your review gave me a laugh. I appreciate the offer, but I don't expect anything that extreme. Just keep reading and you'll make me the happiest person alive. ;D**

**And...I've kept you waiting once again. "Get on with the chapter, already!" I'll bet that's what you're thinking. As mentioned, this chapter takes place after the second. It's the night of the meeting and Patch goes to Scott's to take him up on his offer.**

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Patch's POV

The clock wavered somewhere between seven and eight in the evening when I set out for Scott's place. If everything went according to plan, I would walk through the Millar's doors just before ten without raising suspicion, answer to "Scott" instead of "Patch," and affirm Nora's safety.

I whipped into a discrete parking location a couple of blocks down from Scott's, just to be sure that we weren't risking any more than we had to. The headlights flashed once, twice, as my thumb pressed the remote to lock it and then I was jogging down the block and checking street signs for the turn.

Scott opened the door after my second knock. He didn't say anything, but turned to walk into the living room. I hesitated before stepping in and closing the door behind me softly. Without a pause, he went straight to the couch near the window and plunked down onto it, burying his head in the arms that he rested on his knees. There was an awful ache in the pit of my stomach because I knew what this might mean. I had feared it might, but expected it would, and I silently cussed myself for believing that this would work.

"Change your mind?" I watched him carefully from where I stood.

He pushed himself to his feet a little too quickly and I could see the panic in his eyes. "Listen," I began. Ugh, I was never any good at this kind of thing. "I won't drag it out any longer than it needs to last. The minute the meeting ends and Nora's out of there, I'll be gone."

His eyes traveled up to meet mine and I added in a firm voice, "That's my promise."

...

The Millar home hadn't suffered any significant changes since I'd last seen it. Tall, white decor, black shutters. I suppose if something doesn't appeal to you from the start, it wouldn't in the long run either. Scott's car rolled to a smooth stop out front and I swung the door wide to step out. Show time.

I ambled up the porch steps and gave the door a quick rap.

"Mr. Parnell," A woman seethed when I was permitted to enter. I gave a nod to her and her bland expression, unsure of what to say to someone who lacked all aspects of a personality. She continued with a drawling question. "Were you followed?"

I scoffed. "Me? Followed? I doubt there's anyone out there that can keep up with that." I gave a nod to the car out front and her gaze followed mine before she turned with a...let's call it a smile. I nodded again and continued on my way, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

A long table came into view, which already sat a few people with familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. There was one that I noted first, maybe because she was the first to acknowledge me.

"Scott," She said simply in greeting and I mimicked her afterwards with, "Lisa" as I grabbed the back of a chair. Seated and with a table to hide the fists that ached to throttle him, I was finally able to train my eyes on what sat at the head of the table.

"Hello, Scott." He sneered with a dark expression. _Cool it, Patch._ My mind warned. I sat back in my chair easily.

"Dante," I muttered low enough to keep the venom in my voice at bay before I was rescued by the arrival of more that took their places at the table. A few given walked in and stood around the room, not bothering to pull out a seat. There was some small talk and unbearably long stretches of silence before the room quieted completely and Nora entered. Her eyes were quick to find me among the rest and I gazed back steadily with a small tip of the head. I could see the nerves in her body language, but only because I knew her so well. She walked with grace and confidence to the seat beside Lisa, thoroughly smothering all sign of fear so that the other eyes in the room were oblivious to everything other than her leadership. She was truly an admirable creature, and she was all mine.

She didn't sit. Instead, she stood tall with her hands pressed firmly against the table. I twitched with the restraint that I had to use in order to keep both hands down and not reach out to pick up one of hers. Just to feel the smooth warmth of her skin, that's all I wanted, but somehow I was able to behave myself. It all seemed to be going considerably well, until Nora's mention of the duel. Dante burst from his seat, "But we're dating!" And I went completely rigid. I made myself concentrate on the rough grains on the edge of the table, running a thumb over the corner and instead trying to concentrate on the feeling that was so foreign to me.

I didn't breath again until Lisa Martin spoke for herself. "All in favor, make it known." All around me, hands were thrust into the air. If only they knew what they were asking. If only they knew what a duel meant. If only they knew what she meant to me.

I stared at Nora and she gazed back in understanding as my arm raised to meet the rest. Lisa spoke, seemingly satisfied with the outcome, and declared it to take place at sunrise tomorrow. _No._

"Two days," I shot back in Scott's voice with my reasoning following quickly after.

"Too long." She countered before that vile, good-as-dead prick spoke up at the other end of the table. "And I never said anything about pistols. I'd prefer sabers." I cursed mentally. Dante's eyes met mine briefly as he worked to dig up our plan.

I clenched my hands together beneath the table. I jumped in again, arguing Nora's side and suggesting (or demanding) that it take place Tuesday morning, rather than Monday. Nothing stirred in the room besides Lisa Martin. "Are you taking it upon yourself to train her, Scott?"

My suddenly cold glare met her questioning eyes. "Unlike some of you, I haven't forgotten that she's still our leader." There, let them roll that thought around in their hollow heads for a minute. I was tense with both frustration and worry that they'd brush this off their shoulders and decide that Tuesday was just too long to wait.

Hanging on the edge of my seat, I looked from face to careless face and then Lisa's lips finally moved. I sat back in relief at her agreement. At least that part of tonight hadn't totally failed. I just prayed that Tuesday would be long enough to get the feathers and put an end to this. We were already walking on thin ice and if something else failed in our poorly constructed plans, I didn't know how we would come back from it.

Nora was gone before I fully realized what was happening, but I couldn't blame her. Her footsteps echoed down the hall and several pairs of eyes followed her out of the house. I wanted nothing more than to put space between me and every other individual in that room and go after her. A few minutes longer. That's all I needed.

With Nora gone, a new buzz filled the dining area with hurried whispers among the ones that stood around the table and long, wide glances between the ones that were seated around me. Dante moved around his chair and in a few long strides, stood next to Lisa. "Tuesday morning?" He questioned as if he still believed that she would grant him until sunrise.

"Yes, Dante. That's what was agreed upon." She said simply, gesturing to the room full of witnesses to the event.

He opened his mouth, seeming ready to say something else, before probably deciding better of it and reshaping his lips into a smile.

"Well," He concluded and straightened. "I suppose it's late."

"Yes, it is." She agreed and stood on her own, although he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were trained upon me, sitting a few chairs down the row with my arms crossed loosely over my chest. He just couldn't figure out what we were up to, which appeared to trouble him more than he would have liked to let on and in return, gave a sort of pleasure to me. With some terse words to a handful of the others scattered around the room, Dante stalked to the front door and was gone into the night. Wouldn't want him missing any of that beauty sleep of his.

There were a few remaining stragglers in the Millar house when I finally decided that it was safe to leave. They seemed to be well on their way to bidding their own goodbyes, and I didn't expect them to gossip anything else about this duel, so I found myself comforted enough to leave. I was pleased to see that their shining hostess had seen herself off because I wasn't sure that I could take seeing another one of those...smiles. I could have lingered, maybe drove to Nora's to check on her, but a promise is a promise and I was in the middle of one that I had to keep.

I let myself into Scott's car and punched it on the road, gaining distance from the house that I never cared to see again.


	4. Dented Cans and Happy Endings

**While this scene is never mentioned in the books, I imagined that it could have happened somewhere between the end of Hush, Hush and somewhere near the beginning of Crescendo. **

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Nora's POV

"And you'll be home on time, I trust?" Warned the all-too-knowing voice of Blythe Grey.

"On time, you've got it." I said into the the phone and then added, in an annoyed tone, "I _can_ be responsible, mom."

I heard her mutter a goodbye to somebody on her end of the line before she refocused her attention on our conversation that I was desperately trying to put an end to.

"Oh, honey, I know. Just keep a good head on your shoulders."

I nodded impatiently. "Will do. I'll talk to you later. Love you, mom."

"Mmm?" Obviously she was airy and all kinds of distracted. "Oh, you too, sweetie."

I sighed, not bothering to wait for anything else to come over the speaker, and ended the call before tossing the phone onto my bed. At that same, rushed moment, there was a knock on the door downstairs.

Stumbling down the hallway and slipping on my ballet flats, all at the same time, I flung myself down the stairs, grabbed the doorknob, and paused. My other hand fluttered to swing my untameable mane of curls over one shoulder and I steadied my breathing before opening the door.

Already amused black eyes gazed at me beneath perfectly arched eyebrows. "Someone's excited," He observed with a crooked smile. Great, so he had heard my cluttering stampede to the door.

"Don't flatter yourself." I replied, letting my hand fall from the doorknob to rest on my hip. I couldn't help the grin on my face though.

He chuckled and splayed one hand against the doorframe. "Ready?"

I opened my mouth to agree before I remembered the phone that I had chucked across the room only minutes ago. If my mom called and I didn't answer, she'd have my head.

"Give me one minute." I said and stepped out of the doorway. I spun towards the stairs and called over my shoulder, "You can come in!"

I jogged into my room and found my cell sitting on top of my bed's comforter. Hurriedly, I reached out and snatched it but paused when I caught a glance at myself in the mirror. I groaned softly and padded closer so that I could rearrange the flyaway hairs that refused to obey.

With the brush taming them into place again and making the rest of my hair fall in soft waves, I laid the brush down, slung my bag over my shoulder, and turned to leave.

"Patch!" I cried in surprise at the sight of him filling the doorway. He stared at me with wide, questioning eyes, attempting and succeeding in looking innocent.

"What? You told me to come in." He reminded.

"Well," I huffed but didn't say anymore. I hadn't expected him to follow me up the stairs. He ignored my surprised outburst and passed through the door, out of the light that the hall emitted and into my dark room. All kinds of butterflies erupted through my ribcage at the thought of him in here.

He walked straight to my nightstand though, obviously targeting something. I watched him reach a hand out and heard a low laugh rumble from his chest. Curiously, I took a step to the side in an attempt to see what he found.

"I can't believe you kept this thing," He shook his head and turned to show me the little purple bear that he won for me two weeks back at a ball toss game.

I laughed with him then, walking towards him. "Of course I kept it. Like you said, I'm a sucker for the rejects." When I was close enough, I poked him in the side.

His dark eyes widened playfully. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

I gasped in mock surprise, bringing both hands up to cover my mouth. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew already."

A very dark, very scary smile split across his face mischievously and he lunged for me. I was quick to dodge his advances and I darted from the room, skipping down the stairs and taking several at a time, laughing all the way. I couldn't hear him behind me and just when I glanced back, my body collided with his sturdy frame. My head whipped around to find his smile and his arms snaked around me, forcing me still against his chest.

I tilted my head up instinctively and his warm lips met me halfway, already knowing what I wanted. Too soon, he pulled back and placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Out you go." His dark voice ordered and I grinned, fixing the strap of my bag on my shoulder and walking to the door.

He swung it open. "Ladies first,"

I smirked and kept walking but just as I passed him, shot back with, "I thought it was age before beauty?"

He paused, cocking his head to the side. "Well played," He laughed and fit the door into place behind him before catching up with me and placing a hand lightly on the small of my back, guiding me out to the car.

"Although I think beauty might be an understatement, Angel."

At 7:16, we pulled into the theater that was showing our 7:00 movie. I was always the type that showed up ten minutes early for everything, but that was before I had met Patch and gotten to know just how distracting he could be.

Neither one of us really cared about seeing the movie. In fact, I couldn't even remember the name of it. It gave Patch and I an excuse to spend time together though and still follow the rules. And, it was in a public setting, which I hoped was enough to at least encourage Patch to behave himself although I was sure that he could look past it if he was determined enough.

After denying Patch's offer of popcorn, seeing as we were already missing the movie, we picked up our tickets from a woman with odd purple hair that was graying near her face. We wound our way through the waves of people and seats, trying to reach some empty ones that we spied on the far end. There were some angered sighs and annoyed glances cast in our direction, as we performed one of my biggest pet peeves and showed up late for a movie. Finally, we found a place to sit.

On the screen, a woman was gorging herself with a tub of Ben & Jerry's while I silently wondered how there had already been a break-up, twenty minutes into the show. I could feel Patch's eyes on me and it gave me another thought. Slowly, a smile took over my lips.

"What's funny?" He whispered, eyeing me with curiosity.

I shook my head. "Just remembering the last time that we were in a movie theater together."

He stared at me a minute longer before his own smile teased the corners of his mouth.

I sighed about halfway through the highly predictable chick-flick on the screen. I couldn't see how couples did this every weekend, but with a glance around the theater, I quickly realized why the movie wasn't boring them. One girl, about three rows down, was completely lost in running her lips over the face of the boy that sat next to her. Another couple to my left were too busy losing their hands in each other's hair to notice that the actress on the screen had caught a taxi to race after Mr. Perfect.

I felt Patch move next to me and I tore my eyes away from the couple with a blush on my face. He stood and I gazed up at him in question.

"I'll be back." He mouthed to me and I watched him disappear into the sea of people again. My mind still wondered what was going on while I sat back against my seat.

Minutes later, I spied a familiar face pushing through the seats again. Patch reached me and sat a tub of popcorn on my lap before sliding into his seat next to me. Just when I was beginning to regret refusing his offer.

"How'd you know?" I narrowed my eyes at him and he kept his gaze trained on the screen while he leaned closer and smirked.

"I know you better than you think."

I grinned, shaking my head, but let it go and dug my hand into the tub and plopped a piece into my mouth.

When the credits finally rolled up on the screen, I perched on the edge of my chair, ready to get out of there and stretch my legs. I heard Patch inhale.

"Imagine that," He mused. "They ended up together."

"Hey," I smiled, not sure why I was defending the movie that I thoroughly loathed. "Sometimes people need to see a happy ending."

"When do they ever show a realistic one?"

I sat back, caught off guard by the question.

"A happy ending can be realistic." I offered quieter than before.

Patch turned to drink me in with those black eyes and my stomach flipped.

"Besides," I tried and cleared my throat. "You were the one that suggested we go to a movie."

He stood up and turned to offer me his hand, which I greedily accepted.

"And you chose the movie." He reminded me, pulling me to my feet along with the barely eaten bucket of popcorn.

"Alright, point made." I allowed and made my way down the aisle that had long since cleared out. Patch and I were quickly becoming the last ones left to linger in the theater. We made it to the doors, where a bitter-looking teen stood with one hand resting on the top of a trash can and clutching a broom with the other. I threw him an apologetic glance on our way out. While Patch and I took our sweet time leaving, the poor kid was forced to wait to get his job done.

"So," I piped up once we were out in the night's fresh air. "Movies are out, is what you're saying?"

"Not necessarily," He said while he snatched my hand that had been swinging next to him. "I can just think of some better ways to spend the evening."

"Like?"

Humor glinted in his eyes that he glanced at me from the corner of, flashing me his best million-dollar-smile. Heat flooded my cheeks and I was grateful for the darkness. Patch certainly had a way of getting his thoughts across without muttering a single word.

Sooner than I would have liked to, we were pulling into my driveway. A light fog hung over the house, giving the porch lights an eerie appearance. Absentmindedly, I dug through my bag for my phone and was surprised to see two missed calls and a text. All from Vee, which relieved me if only a little bit that none of them were from my mom. I opened the text and it brought a small smile to my face.

**U better b somewhere awfully important 2 ignore my calls!**

Yep, that was Vee and all of her personality that I loved in one single text message. I quickly sent one back.

**Sorry, movie with Patch.**

I felt bad, really. Poor Vee had been swept to the corners of my mind now that I had other things occupying my every thought. Then I turned to the subject of the night and found him staring at the glowing, green numbers on the dashboard that read 9:48.

"Thank you, Patch." I told him softly. "For tonight."

He turned to look at me, like I had broken some kind of deep thought. "It was my pleasure, Angel, as always."

For someone with such a troubling past, he could be so unbearably sweet. I knew he tried for me, but he didn't need to change. He was perfect.

"You know," I started and let myself out of my seatbelt to slide closer to him. "Curfew isn't until ten."

He hummed and glanced at the time again. "That means we have precisely ten minutes."

His hands reached across the center for me, closing around my hips and lifting me, pulling me closer to him. With some help on my part, we were cramped together in the driver's seat although neither of us minded, and I pulled his mouth down to mine. Patch made me shiver with the searing kisses that he pressed to my neck, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, before meeting my lips again. My guardian angel was more than I deserved. How I ever got to be so lucky, I didn't know, but I was glad for it.

A sudden buzzing noise and small light from the other seat was what pulled me back. I turned my head to glance down at my phone, trying to catch a glimpse of who the incoming call was from. Patch's lips didn't slow while I reached for my cell, trailing soft kisses along the base of my throat.

"It can wait," He whispered against my skin just as I read the number that was showing across the screen.

"Patch," I whispered urgently and he looked up long enough for me to press a finger to his mouth and answer the call.

"Hey, mom." I said as steadily as I could manage into the receiver, more to inform Patch of who it was.

"Hi, honey. Make it home okay?"

I twisted my torso to see the time. Wow, she was good. Ten o'clock, on the dot.

"Yes, just walking through the door." Patch's lips pulled up in an approving grin at my lie.

"Good, good." Mom said and I could almost see her nodding while she said it, reading or watching something that had her mind engaged elsewhere.

"Just checking in," She said with a hard edge buried in her tone. Yeah, making sure I was adult enough to meet curfew. I knew how she ticked. "I should be home tomorrow."

"Oh, alright. I'll see you tomorrow then." I could feel Patch's lips turn down at the mention of it, as my finger still rested over his mouth.

"Get some rest." She instructed softly and I returned with wishing her a good night before the line beeped to announce the end of the call.

"Well," I sighed and tucked my phone in the pocket that Patch's hand rested above. "I guess that's my cue."

He smiled and I finally dropped my hand from his lips. "You heard her. She won't be home until tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes but held a grin just the same.

"Goodnight," I said quickly, touching my lips to his briefly and pulling the door handle to swing it wide.

I knew it wasn't our final goodbye of the night because he would walk me to the door as he always did. I slid out of the car and he followed, after reaching over and appearing with the bucket of popcorn which he pushed into my arms. I shouldn't have brought it but I wasn't one to waste. Besides, it might make for a good midnight snack.

By the time I got to the door, he had it unlocked and waiting for me. He leaned casually against the door frame while I stepped up to the porch.

"Sweet dreams." He grinned when I had stepped into the doorway.

I leaned forward, waiting, and he inched closer slowly only to stop before he touched his lips to mine. I waited and then saw his teasing smirk.

"Patch," I whined and he finally leaned the rest of the way with laughing eyes.

"Just testing your ability to resist me." He explained when he pulled away.

"I failed, didn't I?"

Pirate-smile. "Miserably."

"Thanks again." I said, reaching inside the door to flip on a light so that I might see my way around the house.

"Of course."

He turned with his hands buried in his pockets, trotting easily down the steps and stalking over the lawn.

"And Patch?" I called into the dark.

"Hmm?"

I folded my arms to ward off the chilly night air.

"I'm putting my money on a happy ending."

I could hear the amusement in his voice, even though I could no longer see him.

"I didn't peg you for the gambling type."

"Yeah, well, it looks like your habits are rubbing off on me."

Silence met me, but I heard a faint laugh.

"Like I've always said, Angel," Patch's gravelly voice was now a whisper in the dark, a ghost of his words. "I don't want your money."

A shiver trailed up my spine, but not from the cold, and I finally closed the door. Without pausing for the kitchen or the living room, I headed straight up the stairs where I dropped my bag on the floor of my room. I took a quick minute to find pajamas and brush my teeth before my heavy eyelids won me over.

I padded to my bed with my bare feet and placed a knee on the side, ready to crawl up and sink into my mattress, when something caught my eye. In the middle of my bed sat the little purple bear. Patch must have tossed it in his attempt to catch me earlier, and I smiled softly at the memory.

I cradled it in my hand temporarily before placing it on my nightstand, right where it had been before. My face touched the cool pillow and when my eyes closed, I saw my the purple bear and dented cans. They were the rejects that Patch claimed I was fond of. He would always be my favorite.

* * *

**Thank you so, so much to my loyal readers and reviewers out there! Be assured that none of it goes unappreciated. **

**DallasBreanne, don't be afraid to make requests because requests are exactly what I'm looking for! So thank you for speaking up and know that I have taken note of the scenes that you'd like to see.**

**Also, as requested by a guest and a couple of you through PM's, I hope I've delivered with a romantic/fluffy chapter between Patch and Nora in this one. Of course, I want to know what you all think of it. :)**

**These updates have been frequent because, well, I've had so much fun writing this so far. But just be warned that chapters won't be up this frequent all the time, so don't think that I've "left you hanging." **

**For all of my readers tonight, I give you your very own reject teddy bear to cuddle with and a happy ending. ;P Enjoy!**


	5. Worth It

**After Finale, before the Epilogue. **

* * *

Nora's POV

It was dark and I was alone. I spun on my heel to try and navigate where I was by my surroundings, but there was nothing that gave much away. Everything was still and shadowy and smelled of sawdust, and I was certain that I had never been here before. What memory had I landed myself in? I wasn't sure how accurate it was each time, but I had pushed my fingers against Patch's scars with the hope to find a scene with Dabria in it. Needless to say, I wasn't convinced that I'd found one until I heard a car door open.

I ambled closer, finally spotting the glow of the moon reflecting off the hood of a midnight-black pickup. No wonder I hadn't seen it. It had pulled up without lights and parked beneath the added shadow that a large pine offered. I caught the flash of a blonde head, hair looking ghostly in the night, jogging around the front of the truck. A Ford F-150 I noticed, and then it hit me. _Patch's_ Ford F-150.

It was all I could do to make it to the door and fling myself into the backseat before the truck started backing out.

Dabria was tucking a cherry-red phone into her pocket when I finally sat up.

"I didn't think you'd come for me. The odds didn't look good." She said into the silent cab. Patch glanced into the mirror and, if I didn't know better, I would have thought that his dark eyes were watching me instead of the road behind us. He didn't say anything in response though.

I glanced behind us too and caught the crooked roof of an old, abandoned-looking building, and a memory of my own reminded me that Dabria once told me she hid out in an old sawmill after running from a group of Nephils. If that was true, if that was the sawmill, then I knew exactly where this memory of Patch's was heading.

"Where are we going?" Dabria's wavering question came from the passenger seat. I knew the answer before it was even given.

"I'm taking you to Portland. You can stay in a safe house and get by just fine as long as you don't go sniffing around for ways to land yourself in these situations." His voice had a sharp edge to it that took me by surprise, seeing as it was the first time he had said anything.

Evidently, Dabria was shocked to hear it too. "It was for you, Jev! All of that was to help you!" Her wild burst shrilled out but, despite that, Patch kept an even tone.

"And it's appreciated, but I never asked you to hand out false prophecies and tail a car full of Nephilim. If you had stuck to what I told you, we wouldn't be doing this." The razor side to his voice wasn't present anymore, but he seemed sincerely annoyed.

She sat back against the seat harshly. "Look, I've already apologized for losing Blakely." And it was clear that she was upset. Scared, even.

Patch was quiet for a minute, probably listening to the fear in her voice that I detected also. Finally, he muttered, "Don't worry about Blakely. We'll get him."

Silence again and I spent the time observing Dabria's nerve-wracked display. She would fold her hands in her lap and reach up to push her hair behind her ear, glance at the floor, at Patch, out the window, in the mirrors. Dabria was obviously bothered by the night's previous events and for one insane minute, I almost felt bad for her. Suddenly, both of her hands fluttered to the controls beneath the glowing clock that showed me their faces and she rattled the knobs with shaking fingers, making a mess of things.

I had never seen her in such a wreck. It felt sick to consider it, but it made me feel slightly better to know that she wasn't always smooth and perfect like she had everyone believing. She twisted the heat knob again and pushed her hands over the air vents before groaning.

"Ugh, how does this damn thing work?"

Patch reached forward automatically and calmly fixed whatever she had mangled in her panicked fit.

"What's the problem?" He asked coolly, not even taking his eyes off of the road and still managing to get heat flowing through the cab.

"I'd like to dry my clothes," She defended breathlessly, gesturing violently to her pant legs that were soaked through.

He only raised an eyebrow in question before thinking it over for himself. "The river?"

Her head bounced with a fierce nod and I shook mine in amazement at her mood changes. Shock didn't sit well with Dabria. She didn't know how to handle it. One minute she was on the brink of tears and the next, she was snippy.

"Hell of a night." Patch said and I could hear the soft sound of rain pattering the roof of the pickup before I could see it splattering the windshield. Each drop hit the glass and then curved drastically to speed off the window due to the racing speed that Patch took the road.

We had finally found civilization again, with lights from gas stations and street lamps illuminating the slick road. Patch had slowed the vehicle to a reasonable speed, until we approached a traffic light. He would punch it to make it through the green lights and, even when one of them flickered yellow to red, there was no stopping him. I knew by the looks of things, we weren't far out from Portland and part of me wondered just how long this memory would last. The more time I spent sitting there, the stronger the desire to shove Dabria out of the moving vehicle became. I didn't like her so close to the man that we shared a love for, but there was nothing that I could do to change it. This had already happened. What's done is done.

My head snapped to the sound of Dabria's voice, much softer now than it had been before, asking,

"What makes you see that any of this is worth it?"

Patch turned too, to get a look at her expression. It was the first time that I had really seen him move since this little car ride began.

She looked up at him when he didn't answer. "Any of this. Wouldn't it all be easier, Patch, if you went on your way and forgot about her? You don't care about these things. You don't go through all this trouble for anything. We shouldn't have to act concerned about any of this." Dabria was noticeably calmer, but her hands still wrung together in her lap and her eyes were wide.

His eyes, however, were thoughtful. At least, what I could see of them before they returned to the road as he steered the truck to the right. Even and final was what his tone was when he replied.

"Don't pretend that you know who I am."

"Who are you trying to kid?" She demanded. "I know you better than anyone, maybe even yourself, and especially more than that-"

"You _knew_ me, Dabria." He boomed to cut her off but he quickly regained control of himself, probably reminding himself how upset she was. I couldn't decide how much it bothered me that he was taking her feelings into account and I almost wished he hadn't interrupted her so that I could hear what she was so close to saying about me. "A lot has changed since those days."

I looked back to find her looking down at her hands. "Enough to say that you regret it?"

Immediately, I sat forward on the seat and slid closer to hear his answer. Too many achingly long seconds ticked by before Patch made a sound and gave an answer that about crippled me.

"Not regret," He clarified hesitantly at first and I held my breath. My mind was begging for him to take it back. It scared me that he was putting so much thought into an answer for that monster. Her eyes danced with something that I could only describe as hope and all feelings of pity that I might have had for her moments ago went up in flames.

"Enough has changed to make me look past all of that. I won't regret it because I can't change it." Patch continued and then he was echoing my own words. "What's done is done."

The truck was slowing when he finished. "It doesn't mean that I don't try to forget it, though. I won't live in those days anymore, Dabria." His voice warned. "I have other things to live for."

We came to a stop beneath the pooling light of a lamp post. Patch left the engine running and looked over at her, dark and expectant. She didn't take the hint right away.

She no longer appeared as confident, sitting there and staring out at the safe house that she was to stay in.

"I'm staying here alone?"

"That's the idea." Was his simple reply and I felt a small grin touch my lips.

Dabria looked in the mirror and then back towards the dark walkway. "Aren't you going to walk me in?"

In the driver's seat, he didn't miss a beat. He shook his head.

"You're a big girl. It's the second house to the left, maroon door."

Her head whipped to look at him and I expected a glare but there was only fear.

"It's raining." She told him as if he couldn't see it flooding the street gutters. He finally turned his head in her direction and the glow that flooded from the streetlight outlined his jaw.

"Afraid you'll melt?"

His beautiful smirk taunted her and I would have clapped at the expression that it put on her sour face.

Surprisingly, she brushed it off with a sigh. "Thanks for getting me out of there before they caught up." To this, Patch only hummed in acknowledgement to her words. I could see her eyes watering from where I sat.

"I mean it," She said in a thick voice and flipped in her seat, readjusting herself, and I knew what was coming because I had seen the photos that Dante gave me so long ago, but I didn't know how to prepare for it. I frantically looked at both doors, searching for my escape because I was certain that I really didn't want to see this. Watching him with Marcie once before was enough of a kick in the side to bruise for a lifetime. I didn't need more reason to hate Patch.

Her arms reached across the space that separated them and slithered to encircle his neck. As much as I prayed for it to happen quickly, everything seemed to defy me and slow so that I could pick out each painful detail. I saw his eyebrows furrow, his nose scrunch up, before her hair spilled over her shoulder and curtained the kiss that she forced onto his mouth. I winced but couldn't turn away in fear that I would miss him displaying some emotion or want that he had failed to tell me about. I couldn't even move enough to cast a glance around the near area for Dante snapping a picture of this.

Dabria, obviously pleased with the fact that he hadn't pushed her away yet, shifted into Patch in an attempt to deepen the kiss. His head pulled back abruptly, but not soon enough to save me from the hurt that followed. Her breaths came ruggedly from where she sat but I could hear nothing from Patch, who had turned his face away from her. She leaned against the seat like she was waiting but he didn't give her anymore of his time.

I leaned to peer through the gap in the headrest, just far enough to notice his set jaw. Anyone that knew him well enough wouldn't mistake it as anything but anger.

Dabria seemed to notice it too and so she reached down to the door handle and clicked it. Rain fell through the crack in the door at an angle.

"You wanted to know if it's all worth it?"

He asked suddenly, harshly. Dabria paused. With simmering black eyes, Patch scrutinized her beneath dark lashes and told her,

"She is. She's worth every part of it and more."

That was it. That was his way of reminding her of the line that she had crossed, and it in turn reminded me that Patch didn't want what Dabria did. Patch was with me, for me, loving me even when he was kissing another woman and I was nowhere near to stop him. When I looked back, Dabria was letting the passenger door fall back into place and throwing an arm over her head to protect herself from the pelting rain.

I felt a tug and the scene started to fade. The inside of Patch's pickup was slipping away until I was instead sitting on a stool in a noisy little hole-in-the-wall type bar or club, but I wasn't interested enough to stay. One memory involving Dabria was enough to drain me enough to want to return to Patch.

My hand moved from Patch's scars and rested on his shoulder while I awoke from his memories. He let me regain myself before his hand reached up to cover mine that rested over his warm skin.

"Have I scared you away yet?" He whispered to me and I blinked before smiling. This was my Patch in the present, not the one that I hated for kissing Dabria.

"Is that what you're working at?"

He smirked and turned to plant a kiss on my hand before standing up. I could see the questions burning in those midnight eyes. He wanted to know what I'd seen. I could tell that it was eating away at him.

Much to my disappointment, Patch shrugged back into his faded navy shirt and I was left leaning against the edge of the couch.

"So," He started and I looked up to find his eyes on me.

"You're not talking. That can't mean anything good."

I offered a small grin. "It was a memory with Dabria." I informed him first and watched his eyes tighten slightly.

"And?"

"And she kissed you." I said and then realized, with a flush rising to meet my cheeks, that it wasn't enough information to let him know which memory I was talking about. Of course, she had kissed him on more than one occasion.

"It was the night that Dante took the picture of you two."

And this explanation seemed to be enough. Slowly, he nodded.

"Are you alright?"He asked low and level, stopping in front of me to skim my arms with his hands.

"Hungry." I replied and he grinned.

"Pizza?"

"Mmm." I sighed and Patch was disappearing around the corner leading to the kitchen. I followed him, naturally, and pulled myself up to sit on the counter. He bustled around the kitchen for a few minutes, obviously in search of something, while I shifted through Patch's memory in my mind. The way that he gently reached forward to adjust the heat, the way that he fixed his tone so that he wouldn't upset her.

"I didn't realize your culinary skills stretched further than tacos."

I meant it to sound light and teasing. It did, but my voice had to break through my thoughts on him with Dabria.

Patch stopped across from me, looked down, and then spun to open a drawer.

"A-ha."

I watched him reach in and pull something out. With a triumphant smile, he turned with the phone book in his hands.

"Who said I was making the pizza?"

I tried to keep a straight face but failed and laughed with him.

A half an hour and two calls from the lost pizza man later, the doorbell rang. Patch insisted that I stay at the kitchen table while he sauntered off to get it and less than a minute later, he came walking back with a white and red box.

We had settled on a combination pizza, loaded with everything from green olives to spicy sausage, and garlic dipping sauce.

"I think you could have pulled this off." I told him, picking an onion that had fallen to my plate.

Patch sat back. "And I think you have too much faith in me. Tacos are where I draw the line."

I smirked. "You could have been thirty dollars richer if you'd tried."

He laughed. "But was it worth it?"

"_What makes you see that any of this is worth it?"_

The smirk fell off my face like the onion had tumbled from my slice of pizza. There were too many unsolved questions about that memory dragging on my mind.

"Nora?" Patch tried when I didn't answer.

"Angel, what's wrong?" He was out of his chair and walking around the table to me.

And so I asked the question that I wasn't sure that I wanted an answer to.

"Do you miss her, Patch?"

He didn't pause in the process of dragging his chair closer to me. Only when he was seated and grabbing both of my hands in each of his did he speak.

"What's this about, Nora?"

I was quiet but I didn't know why. "She's gone, Patch. She was someone you were close to. Do you miss that?"

He gazed at me, unmoving, as if waiting to see if that was all I had to say. When I met his eyes with silent gray ones, he blew air from his lips and sat back.

"Sometimes," He began. "I miss knowing what the future might hold. Sometimes I miss being able to send her somewhere to be the eyes and ears for me, and not have to worry about whether she comes back or not." Dark eyes assessed me carefully.

"But do I miss Dabria?" Patch's gaze was unwavering. "She came with more trouble than she did anything else. She would never show up when I asked her to and yet would be there whenever I least wanted her to be." The corner of his mouth pulled up to one side but it was without humor. "She was like that rock in your shoe that you just can't seem to get rid of."

That comment made me smile a little.

"And she was always more set on driving a wedge between you and I than doing anything useful." He added softly. "So, your answer is no, Angel. I don't miss her."

I should have been thrilled by his response. I should have been smiling and throwing my arms around him, but I couldn't help it. My own stupid, envious thoughts keep reeling and my mouth was only too willing to run with them.

"But you don't regret it."

I didn't even recognize my own voice then. Patch blinked at me and I couldn't sit there. I had to move.

Standing up and walked around the counter was done without any thought and I heard Patch's chair screech as he stood to follow. I knew he was standing somewhere behind me and I could almost hear my name starting to form on his lips.

"You don't miss her, but you don't regret anything that you shared with her." I turned my face in his direction but not far enough to see him.

Quietly, he said, "You already know the answer to that."

"Any of it?" I shot, suddenly angry but I knew that it was all inspired by the hurt that I felt. "The kisses, Patch!" I all but screamed at him. That was the trigger, and I knew it. Watching that kiss between him and Dabria unraveled more than I would have liked to admit, just like it did with Marcie. I was silent for a minute and so was he.

"Did you ever make love to her?" I demanded in all of my jealousy, unable to turn around and meet his expression. It was a question that had always nagged at the back of my mind and now I wanted to know.

Behind me, Patch was quiet. I wondered for a moment if he had left the room. When my mind began thinking the worst of his silence, I spun to face him. I found him already staring at me, leaning against the counter with his hat pulled low, his head tilted to one side, and his thumbs hitched in his pockets. He looked especially dark and incredibly sexy where he stood, but I was too worried about his refusal to answer to focus on anything else.

"No," He said finally. "I've never made love."

I stared at him incredulously, waiting for some kind of smirk to erupt on his face. Patch looked back steadily with eyes that gave nothing away. He was serious.

"You're insane if you really think I'm going to believe that you're a virgin."

A small grin touched his lips. "We weren't talking about sex. You asked me if I'd made love."

"What's the difference?" I snapped, exasperated.

Patch withdrew his thumbs from his pockets and slowly pushed himself away from the counter. His eyes bore into mine, dark and hungry, and I nearly squirmed with the feeling that it awoke in the pit of my stomach. Nerves, excitement, anxiety, or maybe a fine combination of the three. Whatever it was, it only intensified as he got closer.

His eyes never left mine and his hat shadowed all of his face except for the faint five o'clock shadow that lined his jaw. My breathing hitched when he leaned closer so that his lips were at my ear, all pirate-smile and cinnamon, and promised with a gravelly edge,

"Someday, Angel, I'll show you."

* * *

**I was kind of excited to get this chapter up for you guys. I wanted to show that even though Patch and Nora live out a happy ending, they still have their moments that need to be worked through.**

**Also, as much as we'd like to think that Patch was saving himself for Nora, we know that he's got a heavy past and so I didn't portray him as the goody-goody that I'm sure some of you would have liked to see. No, Patch is not a virgin in this story...but we do know that he's only ever been in love with one woman. ;P **

**As for the Patch and Dabria kissing scene, it is mentioned on page 284 of Finale and on page 290-291, Dabria explains the scene that I wrote out in a memory. Yes, I tried telling it as accurately as possible. You might wonder why I keep informing you of the page numbers and I'll tell you that it is for your own personal benefit. I leave the page numbers here so that, if you feel the need, you may go back and read those pages and then read the one-shot that I've written for them. I would hope that it would clear everything up. :) If you're ever confused, you know where to go. **

**Anywho, thanks again to my wonderful fan and to the amazing Becca Fitzpatrick for creating these beautiful characters.**

**To my readers tonight, I give a plate of Patch's homemade tacos and midnight ride in the rain with him and his black Ford F-150.**


	6. Next Time, I'll Just Read His Diary

**I imagine this one to take place immediately after "The Risks Taken." Patch left the meeting (as Scott) and got him home safely. Some of you will be pleased to see that it is, in fact, told through Scott's eyes. **

**I also want to make a quick note that these are my own ideas on what the Nephil-Fallen angel possession might be like, as Becca Fitzpatrick never went into great detail in the books. So, while I'm certain that it isn't totally accurate, I took a shot at it. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Scott's POV

Everything came reeling back to me at once and I shot up into a sitting position. I had heard the creaks and whines of the bed springs under me, but I still couldn't see anything no matter how many times I blinked. I was still in the dark. There was this awful, heavy panting in the room too, like some kind of feral animal. After a moment, I realized that it was me. What was going on?

A shadow shifted by the door and my eyes snapped to it.

"It's just me," It spoke in a voice that tugged with familiarity.

I swung my arm to the side, towards the nightstand, and twisted the lamp's knob with uncoordinated fingers. Light flooded the room that I quickly recognized as my own bedroom and illuminated the shadow at the door.

Patch stood with his body angled and his hands out towards me, palms up, like I was a lunatic with a barrel aimed to his chest. My mouth formed an '_O_' as the memory of tonight came washing back to my brain.

"You alright?"

He asked easily. Despite my freak-out, he seemed completely unaffected and calm. As always. Sometimes it scared me how cool he could act in the worst situations. It made me wonder if there was anything that would make the guy snap.

"Yeah," I said and nodded, more to convince myself than him. "Just-"

"Confused?"

I looked up at him and slowly nodded again.

"Just give it a minute." He suggested.

Patch relaxed against the door while I found a more comfortable sitting arrangement on the mattress. I had the strangest feeling, like I wasn't completely awake yet.

"You can sit down, you know." I finally said, nodding pointedly at the chair propped in the corner nearest him. "You're making me uncomfortable, standing there like you might need a quick getaway."

Patch smirked but slowly lowered himself to the edge of the chair like I asked. He looked ready to say something but didn't, and I was glad he kept it to himself because I was certain it was some sly comment. I found it strange that he was still here, meaning that I expected him to get the job done and dump me back home to hurry back to Nora. I grinned.

"Nora making you look after me?"

He fixed the ball cap on his head and looked down so that there was a shadow over his face while he thought. Finally, I could just see the grin on his face.

"I guess you could say that."

I snorted and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "Figures. I didn't take it you were the type to really consider my well being."

He tipped the brim of his hat up to get a better look at me.

"Feeling better already, I see."

There was a light tone to our teasing and each of us wore giant smirks on our lips. He was an alright guy when he tried to be. A little too cocky sometimes, but that was just who he was. There was no changing him, so I might as well grit my teeth and try to deal with it.

"So, Tuesday?" I said, more to confirm that I was remembering the meeting rather than the day.

Something in his expression changed.

"Tuesday morning. And we were lucky to get that."

I stared down at my hand, ruffling the sheets with my fingers.

"It wasn't as bad as I expected." I told him quietly. I didn't look up but I could feel his gaze. He knew what I was referring to; the whole experience of being a vassal. You feel helpless and erased, like you don't exist but were still left behind to watch the outcome. It wasn't a good time, by any means, but I had pictured it being much worse. After a moment, I heard the chair creak with his shifting weight.

"It could have been worse."

This had my attention. I hadn't expected that kind of reaction from him. I might have pictured a "Told you so" or "You were overreacting," but not this. It was a warning almost. Finally, I raised my eyes to see his and he stared back darkly, steadily, waiting for his words to sink in. And they did. It could have been much worse, he was right. Maybe it was his way of convincing me to keep on fighting for my own freedom and not to give up just because it "wasn't as bad as I expected." It was quickly noted and stored away for the back of my mind to revisit later. I looked down at my hand again and was reminded of the meeting. It wasn't a significant detail to the meeting, but I remember wondering about it. The table, when Patch had felt the rough edge with the thumb that I was rubbing now.

"You know, I would have at least allowed you to give her a hug."

He glanced up, slowly raising his head so that our eyes were level. He seemed puzzled by it for a minute before realization sank into his features. He shook his head,

"That's not what I was there for."

"I know that," I said quickly and louder than before. Maybe I should have been thanking him for that not being the reason he was there. Like he said, it could have been worse.

"So you can't feel anything? Nothing at all?" You know that, Scott, you idiot. Why else would the fallen angels go nuts for Cheshvan?

He sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing." He muttered and pushed himself to his feet. Hmm, so it was a touchy subject. Patch made towards the door and I stopped him.

"Hey," I said and he turned. "What if I wasn't done getting answers?"

"Answers?" He chuckled, probably wondering what answers I was looking for, and glanced at the door before turning back.

"What if I was done giving them?"

I made to stand up, a little too quickly might I add, and felt the spinning in my head before I sat back on the mattress.

"I guess that's unfortunate for you. I do remember you saying that you owed me."

Patch simply raised an eyebrow that was lost in the shadow beneath the rim of his hat.

"What kind of answers are we talking, exactly? Truth or dare? Would you rather?" His teasing grin only grew wider. "Wouldn't it just be easier if you read my diary?"

"Funny," I commented without humor and nodded to the chair again. "Why don't you sit there and find out instead of playing guessing games?"

He hummed thoughtfully, glancing to the chair and then taking inventory of the room.

"As fun as that sounds, I think I'll pass. If I remember right, the last time I was here, my fist was in your face."

I followed his gaze and my face flushed at the memory. I'd had one too many to drink that night, or maybe _two_ too many. Me and Nora...well, and Patch...needless to say, his fist had enough reason to dislocate my jaw that night.

"Yeah," My radish-red face nodded. "I guess this place might not bring back the best of memories."

I stood, a little slower this time, with success and reached into my pocket for the keys where I remember Patch putting them last.

Ah-ha, found them. I weighed the keys in my hand for a moment before reminding myself of the rushing in my head. I glanced up and Patch smirked, holding his hand out for me to toss them to him.

"I can see I'm not getting out of this one."

...

"There's fine," I pointed to the three or four parking spots that belonged to the little park's picnic area. The car crept forward and rolled to a stop. Patch reached up to the ignition and twisted the keys far enough that the engine stopped purring but the radio still played softly in the background.

"Okay, Parnell." He sighed and leaned his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. "These better be some good questions that you have for me."

"Like you have anything better to do." I muttered and rolled the window down.

He smiled. "I can think of a thing or two."

And I was sorry that I'd said anything. He peeked at me from the corner of his eye, caught my expression, and closed his eyes again with an even bigger smile on his face.

"Sleeping, of course. What were you thinking?"

"Mmhmm." I murmured and rolled my eyes but I didn't say anything more of it.

"So," He interrupted himself with a yawn. "Ask away."

I thought for a minute. Any other time, I would have curiosities bubbling over the rim, but now that he was there and willing to answer my questions, I couldn't think of the ones to ask.

"First thing's first," I began and proceeded with a simple word that, over the past few weeks, had come to mean quite a bit to me.

"Vee."

Patch turned his head against the headrest. "You're asking me for relationship advice?" He said it doubtfully, like it might not have been the best idea.

"Of course not." I snapped. I was doing just fine with that on my own, thank you very much.

"Well," He shrugged slightly. "I still think you're asking the wrong person. I don't know much about Vee."

"Oh, I think this is one you'll know."

Patch looked at me in question and I continued.

"Care to fill me in on why she hates you so much?"

He grinned. "I can't figure that one out either. I'm typically a very likeable person." There was some heavy sarcasm in his voice.

"No, really." I said. "She can't stand the fact that Nora's with you because she worries that you're not good for her, her whole mood darkens every time you're brought up in a conversation. I mean, you and Nora have had a rocky couple of go's, but why do I have the feeling that it's more than that?"

Patch sighed and stared up at the car's ceiling. Finally, he asked softly, "Do you remember Rixon?"

Rixon? I narrowed my eyes. Why would this involve that son of a- oh. I had a clear memory of the fallen angel with a gun in his hand and a girl on his arm. _Vee._ Patch continued speaking before I had even answered.

"When I got rid of him, I couldn't have her remembering anything about him." His face was unchanging while he said it but mine twisted in anger. So, what, he thought it acceptable to wipe her brain? It upset me, even though I knew that I wouldn't want her remembering him either.

"That, and the fact that she believes, along with Blythe, that I had something to do with Nora's disappearance..."

His voice trailed, lingering on that thought just a little longer.

"To tell you the truth, Vee hasn't liked me from the start. She had more sense than Nora." The last part was said very quietly and I turned in hopes of finding an answer in his expression, but there was nothing there that gave anything away. At least he was being honest with me.

"Speaking of Nora," I said and cleared my throat, attempting to get the subject moving along.

"How exactly did that come about?"

Patch finally turned his head to look at me and his eyes seemed brighter now that the subject was on Nora. He laughed softly.

"What are you asking?"

My shoulder pulled up in a shrug. "I don't know. How you met, I guess."

His eyes darkened, if that were possible, and he turned his face away again.

"That story won't make you like me any better." He warned in a low voice.

"It isn't your typical beginning to a happily-ever-after."

I smirked. "Well, it can't make me like you any less." I teased, shooing a mosquito out the window with my hand. He was quiet and so I tried again.

"Maybe if you start out with, "Once upon a time" it won't seem so bad."

Patch shook his head. "Aren't you tired yet?" He must have known how exhausting it was to spend a good chunk of the evening as a possessed vassal, because he hit it right on. I was beyond tired, but interested enough to at least keep my heavy eyelids parted.

"Are you going to tell me, or what?" I demanded.

He sighed next to me, reached his hand down to the lever on the seat, and reclined the chair back a little further. From there, he settled deeper into the headrest and yanked the brim of his hat down so that it nearly covered his face. I thought he might doze off, but he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Once upon a time,"

He began and I could see the corner of his lip pulled up in a smirk.

"There was an archangel who didn't sit well with following rules. He wanted something more- a new opportunity, and when he pushed against the rules, his wings were torn from him and he was banished from heaven." I shifted in my seat, watching him while he talked. This was far more than I had expected to get out of him.

"He thrived on earth, found himself a Nephil that swore his oath to him. It wasn't enough though. He was always looking for more, so when he found a book with forbidden ideas, he started getting ideas of his own. These ideas all revolved around the goal to become human, and he knew just how to do it."

Patch paused for a breath and I was still.

"To become human, he had to track down his vassal's female descendant. A simple sacrifice was all he needed to get what he wanted. The answer was obvious, wasn't it? He had to search for her." His voice had grown low, quiet.

"That searching took him to Maine, somewhere he never would have considered visiting had his target not been there. A sad little town called Coldwater had his name all over it, and all to find this one girl. It didn't take long for him to find her, but getting her alone was proving to be an impossible task. He had to get closer to her."

"Before long, he was enrolled in her high school and struggling to find opportunities to rope her in."

Patch shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

"Well, needless to say, he found a way. He only needed the perfect moment, the right time to strike, and then he would have what he wanted." He trailed off again and even hidden, I could see the strain on his face. His jaw was set when he continued in a rushed tone.

"He could have done it on the ride at Delphic, or when she met him for a game at Bo's. He could have done it there in her own home when she invited him in that night, but he chose not to. They started spending more time together and for some reason, he kept telling himself, "Just one more day. I'll do it tomorrow." Turns out he was so focused on the girl that he had failed to realize that his vassal had followed him to Maine."

Patch reached up slowly to tip his hat up over his eyes. They were dark, but hard around the edges.

"Chauncey was his name. You might have heard of him." I nodded mechanically. Truth was, I didn't care much about the Nephilim. I was more curious as to what happened to the girl. Nora.

"Revenge was what he wanted from the fallen angel that had made him swear his oath of fealty. He had been waiting, watching, and he thought he knew just what the angel's weakness was." I held my breath. "Chauncey found a way to get to the girl. Wanted to use her against the angel."

Patch still hadn't looked at me and for a minute, I was glad of it. I couldn't decide through the horror of this confession if I hated him more. How could I trust him to protect her if this is how he came to know her?

"He tried to get to her, climbing after her to the rafters of the building. She must have realized at the top that there was no real way out of it and so knowing that she was his descendant, and that her sacrifice would destroy him... she jumped." Patch winced while that word lingered in the heavy air of the car and I went numb all over.

"Chauncey fell, the girl was gone, and the angel stood with everything that he thought he had wanted. The girl had sacrificed herself. He could have been human, had he accepted her death." Patch's eyes closed and he breathed out through his nose and said softly,

"But he couldn't."

"Why not?" I demanded with a strange kind of anger that I hadn't realized was simmering so close to the surface.

Patch gazed up easily, like he was expecting my snap, and slowly shook his head. "That girl changed him."

It made me sit back. _Okay, deep breath. Don't flip, Scott._ My own mind was ordering me through the exhaustion that gave all my senses a strange, hazy cloud. I knew I wasn't thinking straight and it was feeding that temper of mine. I had to get this straight. Patch was some kind of rebel that got himself kicked out of heaven, found some twisted book that fed his already sick mind with crazy ideas, set out to sacrifice the girl he's now trying to save, got her killed, fell in love, brought her back, and...what? I felt like I was having a more difficult time understanding this than I should have.

"Well." I tried in a cracked voice. "You were right. It doesn't make me like you any better."

Even though I had watched him the entire time he told the story, I couldn't get myself to even look at him. I could hear him fix the seat back into a sitting position.

"Don't expect pleasant answers to the questions you ask me."

His voice was kind of bitter. It was said in the same accusing tone that I had used. Way to go, Scott. You've pissed him off.

"No, you're right." I said finally and brought my hand up in defeat. "You didn't have to tell me, but you did."

I would have thanked him for it, but I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to it just yet.

"So when you didn't accept her sacrifice," I began again, not wanting to give him enough time to think about starting the car and ending this conversation. "That was it? Everything went back to normal?"

Patch shook his head slowly, sliding a hand up to rest on the back of his neck.

"Because I saved her life, so to speak, I became a guardian. Her guardian angel, in fact."

I stared down, confused again. Wasn't he a fallen?

"And Marcie," He sighed heavily. I looked up in surprise. Another confession? I wondered idly if I wanted to hear about his fling with her, and if Nora had heard this story herself.

"When the archangels caught wind of the relationship that was quickly sprouting with Nora, they changed my assignment. They assigned me to Marcie."

I let that sink in for a minute before I wondered quietly, "Why are you telling me this?"

He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Because I know you think I did Nora wrong and ran off with Marcie. I figured I might bring up everything that will set me straight after confessing all the things that you hate me for."

Patch suddenly looked tired, but not necessarily from all the events or the late hour. I could almost see the regret.

"So you and Marcie, you were never an item?" I wanted to clarify before I went on with my own assumptions.

"No," He said and I suddenly felt bad for having all those awful thoughts about him when I had seen how hurt Nora was over the whole thing. I won't deny that I'd imagined bashing his head in a time or two.

I sat for a minute, chewing on my lip.

"Why go through all the trouble?" I asked.

Patch turned to look at me finally and I continued.

"Finding the female descendant and the sacrifice. All that to be human?"

His hand reached up to the steering wheel to slowly slide down the side of the smooth leather.

"For the same reason that you pointed out earlier." Patch muttered. "I can't feel anything."

I stared at him for a minute before asking,

"And that doesn't bother you anymore?"

Obviously he didn't have that same, intense desire to be human if he was so desperate to keep Nora safe.

"It does," He said without really considering my question. His hand dropped to his lap and he stared out the window.

"But there are more important things to me now."

More like important _thing_. I couldn't doubt that the guy loved her. Hell, I didn't see how anyone could doubt it if they'd spent any longer than five minutes with them in the same room. The thought reminded me and I leaned over to twist the key in the ignition, holding back a laugh as I watched Patch stiffen.

He stared at me with an arched eyebrow and I flung both arms up.

"Well, go on. Wouldn't want to keep you from those important things any longer."

Patch smirked, yet again (remember what I said about being cocky?) and slid the car into reverse. The ride home, which might have lasted two whole minutes, gave me the time to decide that this little get-to-know session had been a good idea. Nora didn't have her dad around to approve of the guys that she hung around with, and so I felt the need to take that responsibility onto my own shoulders. It eased my mind, if only a little bit, that I knew a little something about Patch Cipriano and that the facts had come from his own mouth. I hated hearing dirt on him through the grapevine or from Vee, or even Nora. Sometimes it felt good to know something that you were supposed to know, and not because somebody spread their own thoughts about something, like Marcie Millar often did.

"Where are you parked?" I asked after looking around and Patch got out of the driver's seat. He nodded to my right.

"Down the street a little ways."

I shut the car door and he tossed the keys to me and then looked up to the dark windows.

"Normally, I don't make a bad gentleman but I think I'm going to have to politely insist that you walk yourself to the door." Even in the dark, I could see his lopsided smile.

I pretended to look offended.

"Are you afraid I'd expect dinner and a movie?"

He chuckled.

"I'm mostly afraid that you'll ask me to sit and talk with you in your bedroom again. A lot of things fly okay with me, but that was enough to make even me feel awkward."

I laughed, walking up towards the door.

"You're just afraid that you'd make Vee jealous." I called over my shoulder.

"Of course I am," Patch's voice carried from the distance. "She frightens the hell out of me."

I let myself in with a smile still playing on my lips. I didn't even bother flicking on the lights to see where I was going. I could really feel how tired I was now and so I flopped onto my bed, kicked the shoes off my feet, and was asleep before I could utter another chuckle about the dark and fearless Patch being afraid of the girl I was falling for.

* * *

**Well, it isn't a Scott and Nora scene but it _is_ Scott so I hope that it's at least enough to satisfy the cravings that a few of you might have until I'm able to post the one-shot between him and Nora. I promise, it's coming along with the other requests that you wonderful people have made in your reviews. Don't give up on me yet! There's more to be seen!**

**This chapter has also given me the idea to post some Scott and Vee moments because I feel that they were such an adorable couple in the books, but we never got to see them together. I'd love to know what you guys think about that. **

**Keep reading and reviewing! It's what keeps me going. As for this chapter, I give to my readers a game of "Truth or Dare" and "Would You Rather" with our favorite Hush, Hush boys. In Scott's room, of course. ;D**


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